Staging a War
by divadiva74
Summary: Francesca is a little brighter than the average credit card maxing girls of her previous life in Manhattan's Upper East Side, but what happens when she is down on her luck and a little bit more clumsy than usual and knocks herself into the past?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Like I would have the genius to come up with it on my own…well except for the characters that I actually invented.

**Chapter 1**

There were at least three reasons why Francesca thought she shouldn't get out bed: she had no job, no boyfriend, and there was currently a perfectly good bottle of scotch in her right hand.

These problems or blessings, it all depended on how you liked to see it, had all happened because of the occurrences of yesterday. Chronologically it happened in this order: She was fired from her job because she told her boss, who was also her most recent boyfriend, to go to hell. Being in a furious rage, she then promptly announced over the PA system that the company was full of idiots and she was glad she was leaving. The only problem after proclaiming this was that no one got up and did the slow clap like they did in the movies. All of the employees just sat there and stared at her like she was a complete moron.

Fiddling with the system then caused her to be thrown out of the building on her ass. She picked herself up after this and walked home, where she had collapsed on her bed with her scotch and hadn't moved since.

Francesca was enveloped in the flannel sheets of her bed, and she wasn't drunk either. (But that was probably what all drunken people thought, because she was most definitely more than a little tipsy) While she pondered her next move she twirled her long dark brown hair between her fingers. _I really should start looking for a job, if I don't I won't have this apartment in a month. And I am not going back to mother for help._

It was a difficult decision: to get out of bed and begin the working life again, or stay in bed and be a slob for the next week and a half. Francesca found that option number two was exceedingly appealing. She rolled over, closed her green eyes, and fell into a drunken nap.

The sound of Simon and Garfunkle woke her up. _Oh God_ she thought. She dragged herself out of the bed and stumbled over to her dresser. She looked at her cell phone; it was her best friend Julie. Should she answer? A definite NO. She let it ring itself to voicemail and put it on her bedside table, just in case she decided to answer.

She crawled back under the sheets and fell asleep…for about 30 seconds.

_And here's to you Mrs. Robinson_

_Jesus loves you more than you will know_

_Oh, oh, oh_

Francesca grabbed the phone and fumbled for the send key, "Julie what in God's name do you want?"

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," said Julie's always cheerful voice

"How do I sound like I'm doing, Julie?" Francesca said her voice on edge

"You sound irritated and drunk."

"I am irritated, but I am not drunk, I'm just tired. Now please stop calling me so I can go to sleep"

Julie countered, "Exactly how long have you been in bed?" She was answered with silence. She asked, "Over 12 hours?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"Around 24. I've only taken bathroom and scotch breaks."

"Scotch breaks?" Julie asked

"When I run out I get more out of the liquor cabinet. It's hardly a difficult concept to grasp." said Francesca

Julie was silent for a moment, "I'm coming over, you need moral support and someone needs to get you out of bed. I think your life will go on if you at least make an effort."

"Do not come over."

Francesca was ignored.

"I'll be there in ten minutes, good thing we live so close to each other." Julie hung up the phone. Francesca thought she should change her clothes looking down at her ancient NYU shirt and ripped plaid pajama pants. It didn't matter as Julie had seen her looking worse so she wasn't going to change. There's no point in looking good if you're not going anywhere.

Francesca had hardly had time to turn on the coffee pot before she heard knocking at her door. Count on Julie to be exceedingly punctual. Francesca, who was not quite ready for her bubbly friend, pretended to look for her slippers and robe to kill time before letting Julie into the apartment.

"Why did you make me wait so long?"

"Because you get on my nerves." Francesca walked over to the couch and plopped herself down, "You know Julie I really don't wish to be bothered."

"Well, if I let you keep this up for another day or two you'll never have a life."

"I didn't have a life before."

"Exactly. That's why you're going to get up, get dressed, go to Fifth Avenue and max out all of your mother's credit cards!"

Francesca was not agreeing with this idea, "I'm not going anywhere...and I cut up all of her cards last month. The proverbial umbilical cord."

"Well, if you won't do that at least get some exercise. If I had a body like yours I would run every day of my life."

"I usually do run everyday"

"Yes, you usually run everyday but did you today?" Julie asked but she already knew the answer.

"No."

"Did you run yesterday?"

"No. And Julie, my body is not perfect by any standard. Have you seen these shoulders? I look like a linebacker."

"Oh yeah, because a great body doesn't consist of great abs, the firmest butt in New York, long legs, and not to mention the best boobs I have ever seen!" said Julie, "You see I'm complimenting you on your body and I'm not even a lesbian! Imagine what the men of the world must think of you. Now get up! You're going running!"

Francesca propped her feet up on her coffee table and said angrily, "No. I'm not."

"Oh, yes you are!"

"No!"

"It'll make you feel better. You always ran in high school when you were upset." Francesca pondered a run. On the downside it would make her tired and sweaty, but she was already past the point of disgusting on the lazy level. But a run would tire her out, allowing her to come back to her apartment and sleep some more. Yes, she would run.

"Fine, but only because you're making me." Said Francesca stubbornly getting off the couch. Julie became happy Julie once again. They entered the mess that was Francesca's bedroom. Clothes were strewn everywhere and the blinds were drawn, creating a stuffy, lightless environment.

"Great, now let's find you something to wear." Digging through Francesca's dresser she asked, "What do you usually wear?"

"Something comfy," replied Francesca. Today was not a day to try and look good.

"Really?" questioned Julie. All whilst still digging through Francesca's drawers and throwing clothes everywhere. "Last time I checked you were the kind of person who liked to show off any way they could. That would probably mean that you wear spandex running clothes. I know you wear spandex." Julie said menacingly.

"Julie I do not wear spandex. I don't need to go around in tight skimpy clothes to pick up guys like you do."

"Really, Franny, then what are these," Julie said gesturing to a drawer full of running clothes which, of course, were all made out of spandex.

"It's not what you think…I…um those are just for show. I don't really wear those they were a…um…gift from …from my mother!" Francesca barely spit out the lame excuse before Julie was on to her lie.

"If they were from your mother they would have Versace on them not Nike. So I would hardly think that she would have bought them for you, besides you haven't talked to her in almost a year. Franny, I think that was a big, fat lie you just told me.", Julie continued, "and if it was a lie then that would mean that you really do wear these, right?"

"Maybe." Francesca squeaked out. This was entirely too embarrassing for her, even if it was Julie. She didn't seem like the kind of person that would wear that to exercise in. "Julie, why is it so important anyway?"

"Well I always assumed that you would want to look your best when running. I mean all of the hot guys run in the morning. And you need a new boyfriend now that you aren't with asshole-of-the-month anymore." Julie said as she started to look through the drawer of workout clothes. "Let's face it Franny the most important thing right now is making you look your best. It's not like you have anything better to do anyway." Finding the perfect outfit she held it up to Francesca who was sitting on the bed.

"I've never actually worn that," Francesca stated, "I always thought it was too tight." She eyed the outfit carefully. The top was red and really only looked like a sports bra. The shorts were black spandex, really short black spandex. "I don't think I want to wear that, per say," she said warily.

"Well you know what," Julie said, "you're wearing it." Julie stalked over to Francesca and grabbed her arm. Marching her over to the bathroom Julie grabbed the clothes on the way. Both the clothes and Francesca were thrown into the bathroom and the door was closed tightly after them. "Now put those on while I look for your shoes." Julie said cheery once again.

About five minutes later Francesca came out of the bathroom. "So how do I look?" she asked Julie twirling around, imitating those cheesy moments out of movies.

"You look sexy. Every guy on the trail is going to fall over when they look at you. Now get going!" Julie said tossing Francesca her tennis shoes. Francesca caught them and hurriedly put them on, she suddenly really wanted to go running. As soon as she got laced up she asked Julie if she wanted to go out with some friends tonight.

"Yeah we can go to that new bar down on 10th. I'll call everyone and we'll meet there at around eight." Julie was making her way to the door. "I'll see you later Franny! Now get out there and knock 'em dead!"

Running in central park during the day allowed Francesca to settle herself. She didn't dwell on the past when she was running she zoned out. This is why she didn't watch where she was going and tripped on an uneven part of the concrete path. Francesca fell not noticing until she was halfway to the ground. _Oh shit I think I'm going to hit my head._ She didn't even have time to brace herself for impact; she hit her head and completely blacked out. She didn't know that she had tripped over a crack in time.

Exactly ten minutes later and over one hundred years in the past Will and Elizabeth Turner found her among many other observers, laying outside a pub, wearing what they thought were the most scandalous garments they had ever seen.

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><p>Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Like I would have the genius to come up with it on my own…

**Chapter 2**

"What do you think we should do Will?" Elizabeth Turner cautiously examined the unknown woman on the ground, "we can't just leave her here, something would happen to her."

The woman lying in the dirt was unlike any they had ever seen. Her clothing was unusual in its design and barely covered anything on her body. Her shoes were a cloth-like material and had no heels. Judging from the fact that she had hardly any clothing at all and was lying in the dirt, they came to the conclusion that she was a poor immigrant and quite possibly a prostitute.

"I don't think anyone here knows her so I guess we could take her home, if that was what you were implying." Will replied. There was something about this woman that just didn't seem right. She didn't belong here. But he shook off the feeling because Elizabeth was overjoyed at the fact that they were going to have a guest, no matter how odd.

"Oh, Will, our first real guest I can't wait! What room do you think she should stay in? Do you think she has any other clothing? I wonder if Father will like her? Will, what are you waiting for pick her up and let's go!" Elizabeth started down the street toward their home, leaving Will to take care of the unconscious woman.

He looked down at her. However was he going to pick her up without touching her indiscreetly? She didn't really have any clothing on. He bent down and put his arm under her knees and his other under her arms. It didn't seem too hard, he was barely touching her, then his left hand grazed the underside of her breast. To say the least: he panicked. He couldn't do this, it was like cheating on Elizabeth, and so he stood there with a horrified expression on his face, while he was holding the woman.

Elizabeth looked over her shoulder as she was walking down the street and noticed Will standing there, "Will what is wrong with you?"

"I'm touching her."

"Yes, you would have to if you were going to carry her." She looked at Will questionably, why was he acting so strangely? He looked like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"But…But I'm TOUCHING her!" His eyes got bigger as if he was trying to tell Elizabeth what his meaning was. He decided to tell Elizabeth because she clearly wasn't getting the message, he muttered, "My hand is touching her breast, HER breast…I don't even know her. And I feel like I'm being unfaithful to you." He finished and looked at Elizabeth pointedly, expecting her to tell him he was right. Instead she laughed in his face.

"Oh, Will…that's ridiculous...," she kept laughing, "how could you convince yourself that you were being unfaithful. One, we don't know her. Two, you're carrying her. And three, she's unconscious and we are taking her back to our home. Also I hardly think that she is going to remember this." They both looked at Francesca, she was still unconscious, and therefore wouldn't even know if Will was touching her.

"Well, I guess you're right," Will stated.

"Of course I'm right. Now let's get going, I want her to wake up somewhere comfortable." Elizabeth turned around and started back down the street to their home. Will followed closely behind, carrying Francesca with him.

* * *

><p>Captain Jack Sparrow strolled through the docks of Port Royal, whistling a tune to himself. He hadn't been in Port Royal for nearly a year, when the Turners' wedding had taken place.<p>

He walked down the street in the direction of Will's house but was distracted by the faint scent of liquor in the distance. It was a tough decision: go and see the Turners or have a quick drink at the local pub. Well, they hadn't seen him for a year so he figured they could wait a little longer, so he followed his nose.

* * *

><p>"Let's just leave her in the parlor for now, James is here." Will and Elizabeth had left Francesca on the sofa in the parlor. They were going to find out who she was; they were enlisting the help of their enemy-turned-friend James Norrington, the Commodore. They left the parlor, leaving Francesca to fend for her unconscious self. But they didn't know that a particular pirate was in the process of climbing in the window, solely to avoid interacting with the Commodore. Jack sauntered into the room and saw the woman on the sofa.<p>

_Ah, what is this? I'll just have a looksy. _Jack walked over to the settee and looked at the woman laying there. Very strange clothing, but very nice to him. Granted she was pretty with especially long ash-brown hair, but his eyes were fixed on her very revealing top. He wanted to see what was covered by that scrap of fabric. _She's knocked out, she'll never even know. _Unfortunately, just as Jack's hand was pulling down the spandex, Francesca decided to wake up.

_Oh god, what a headache…must be a hangover. I knew I shouldn't have drunk all that scotch…next time I'll stick to coffee, or maybe…wait, is someone touching me? _Francesca opened her eyes and found herself looking at a very grubby man, who was peeling down her top. So she did what every other confused woman would have done: she screamed.

Jack, who was just about to see something delectable, was so startled that he snapped back the spandex top and fell onto the coffee table that collapsed under his weight. He sat there and sputtered for a few seconds and then regained his senses.

"Now luv, don't get too upset. I wasn't goin' to do anything." Jack said this holding his hands out in front of him. At this Francesca jumped up from the sofa and started fuming.

"Don't get upset! DON'T GET UPSET! How would you like to wake up in a place you've never seen before to a very grimy man groping you?" Francesca started looking around the room for a weapon. _Now where would someone find a weapon in a replica of an eighteenth century house? _Jack picked himself up off of the floor. Francesca saw him, "don't you move! I'm going to find someone to arrest you!"

Walking backwards, feeling around behind her for something to hit the dirty man with, she bumped into a table. She turned quickly and grabbed a candlestick, _isn't much but it will have to do _she thought as she turned back around. The man wasn't by the sofa anymore. She gripped the candlestick tightly, "now where did that lecher go?"

She felt an arm wrap around her waist, "right behind you luv." His other arm wrapped itself around her body totally trapping her.

Francesca struggled, "you let me go you dirty son of a bitch!" He didn't move. Francesca continued to fight, but escape still eluded her. "I said let me go!"

Jack felt cold metal against the back of his neck, "Sparrow I would suggest releasing this woman if you value your worthless life."

Jack put on his most genial face and turned around, "Commodore, how wonderful to see you again! Tell me, how's the family, you know your cat, what was its name…"

"Sparrow you know very well that I do not own a cat. Now please release that woman she looks as if she would like to kill you." Jack released the woman trapped within his arms; she immediately went and stood next to the Commodore. Only then did he notice Will and Elizabeth standing behind Norrington.

"William! Isn't it brilliant that I dropped in for a visit? Lizzy! Haven't seen ya for a while, how's dear old dad? You got any kids yet, always did love kids!" Jack was making a big show and slowly directing himself toward the door.

Will spoke, "Jack, I think you should have a seat." Jack got the message and made his way over to the sofa, where he plopped down and put his feet up on the opposite armrest. He glanced over at the woman he found on the sofa, she was sitting on a chair in the corner, talking to herself. _That one is crazy. Good thing I didn't get too involved. _

* * *

><p>These people were crazy. She must have been kidnapped in the park and been dragged to some reenactment in Williamsburg or something. <em>I should introduce myself and send that man and the rest of them to the police. But first I have to find a phone. <em>She looked around the room, there was absolutely no phone. In fact there were no electrical outlets. Every lamp had oil in it. She needed to know what was going on.

She walked over to the sitting area and asked, "Excuse me, I would like to know what is going on here." They all looked at her dumbly, and then the woman, whose name she assumed was Elizabeth spoke up. "Oh dear, I am so sorry we completely forgot about you."

_That's really nice, I'm the one who got assaulted and they forgot about me!_ Francesca was angry and Elizabeth noticed.

"Dear, it's just that we haven't seen Jack for a year and it was a big surprise. Now you just come over here and sit on the sofa." She led Francesca over to the sofa which was still occupied by the dirty man Jack. "Jack move your legs she needs to sit down."

"I'm not sitting by him." She eyed him carefully, this would make an arrest for sure, "He might try to assault me again." The Commodore immediately had his sword at Jack's throat. Will and Elizabeth looked at Jack appalled.

James looked at Francesca, "Are you telling us that he tried to force himself on you?" Francesca nodded her head fiercely _bye, bye dirty man Jack, it's jail for you. _The Commodore looked to Jack who was formulating a way to get out of this, _that one is sneaky, lets see how she takes the truth. _Jack spoke using his most dignified voice.

"Commodore, would you say that you like women?" Jack asked.

"I would say I would. Get to the point Sparrow." James was an impatient man.

"Just listen. If you were to walk into a room and found and unconscious woman lying on a sofa, wearing a getup such as this," he gestured to Francesca, "would you not take advantage of the situation?"

"Sparrow, I do not think I would take advantage of an unconscious woman. That is a role usually reserved for pirates such as you." His sword was still at Jack's throat. Jack glanced to the woman standing next to Elizabeth; she was smiling as if she just won. _Perfect now I will catch her in her own trap._

"That woman is lying." He smirked at her; she opened her mouth and closed it without words. The group all turned to look at Francesca.

"I am not lying. This man was pulling down my shirt when I woke up. If I hadn't woken then he would have done unmentionable things." She was back in the game.

Elizabeth decided to bring this to an end. She had a feeling it was true but she didn't think Jack did anything harmful. She looked to the woman they had found in town, "But you are saying you are unharmed, if I am correct?"

"Yes, but…" Elizabeth cut her off.

"Jack does things like this on a regular basis, but he doesn't mean any harm. In fact if you hadn't woken up he wouldn't have done anything else." Elizabeth whispered in her ear, but loud enough so everyone would hear, "he's really a good man; he just doesn't like to admit it."

Jack snorted when Elizabeth said it but didn't go any further; the Commodore still had his sword at Jack's throat. Will detected Jack's discomfort and motioned to James to remove his sword. When the sword was taken away Jack rubbed the spot where the sword had been.

Elizabeth motioned to the group and introduced everyone, "this is Will Turner, he's my husband, Commodore Norrington of the British Navy, Capt. Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl, and I am Elizabeth."

_They really are crazy; they all think they're in the eighteenth century. I guess I'll play along, remember, just play along with the crazies and you won't get hurt. _

"I'm Francesca Demers of the Wall Street Demers." She used the same kind of introduction that they had used. She looked around to see their reactions, after all the Demers were a very well known family. She was met with confused faces.

"Wall Street?" Will asked

"Yes, you know like New York City." Francesca said. She tried again, "The United States of America?"

Silence. She chose to ask a few questions, "Elizabeth," she asked, "where exactly are we?" _Say Colonial Williamsburg. Say Colonial Williamsburg._ She just wanted Julie to come around the corner and say it was all a joke.

"At our home in Port Royal." Elizabeth answered. She didn't know why Francesca was asking her these questions.

Francesca tried again, "Where is Port Royal?" _Say Colonial Williamsburg. _She really didn't want to be anywhere else.

"The Caribbean." At this Francesca ran for the door. Once she opened it she made a beeline for what she assumed was the front door. She opened it and looked out; it was unlike anything she had ever seen. Everything looked old. The people dressed differently from what she could see of the town. Elizabeth came up behind her, "Dear, whatever is the matter?"

"Elizabeth? What century is it?" She still had a faint glimmer of hope within her

"Why it's the eighteenth century." Francesca froze. She continued to look out beyond the doorway of the house. _It couldn't be true could it? I couldn't possibly be here. Oh well I just I'll have to see what comes next. _Francesca sank down in the doorway and continued to gaze off into the distance. The group was standing behind her.

"I knew that one was a loon." Jack commented

* * *

><p>Please let me know what you think!<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Like I would have the genius to come up with it on my own…I'm extremely unimaginative

**Chapter 3**

To say that the group was a little perplexed was an understatement. They could not possibly understand that was wrong with this woman. One moment she was yelling and the next she was mutely staring out the doorway. They were all beginning to takes Jack's words to truth; they were all thinking she was a loon.

"What do you think's wrong with the crazy?" Jack asked the Commodore. James shrugged his shoulders, and kept looking at the woman. She was quite the puzzle, but he was interested in learning more about her. Besides, she didn't like Jack, and anyone who didn't like Jack Sparrow was a friend to him.

Elizabeth looked at Jack in annoyance, "It's just a surprise to her. She suddenly found herself in a completely new place and she's taking it hard. For all we know, she might have memory loss; she could easily be a maid from down the street. Francesca Demers could be anyone." Francesca heard Elizabeth speaking to Jack and chose to try to tell them the truth, even though they may not believe it. She turned away from the view and looked to the group standing behind her. This looked like a pretty tough crowd to sell, especially the dirty man and the one in the funny jacket.

"You all aren't going to believe me, but I'm going to try and tell you who I am and where I came from." Francesca started with what she thought was a good introduction. "I am Francesca Demers and I am from the twenty-first century, which would be the year 2007." This earned her blank stares from the group and an eye-roll from Jack, she also saw him mouth the word _loon _to the Commodore. _They don't look convinced; I would be just as well off telling them that I was from outer-space. Oh well, just keep pushing on. I'll give them the abbreviated version._

"As far as I can see, you guys don't believe me, but-''

"I believe you." Elizabeth spoke up. "I knew there was something different about you when we found you…that must be it! That must have been why you were laying on the ground." Francesca thought for a moment. _It makes sense, I was running and I fell. I must have knocked myself out, but that doesn't explain why I ended up here. You never know what's coming to you. God must think I need a vacation. And by the looks of it, this vacation might be permanent. I'll tell them I was running and leave it at that. _

"I guess it happened today, when I was running. I had just gotten fired from my job, so I had a lot to think about." _Like they'd know what getting fired was, geez Francesca sometimes you are so dense! _ "I must have zoned out for a few seconds and in that brief amount of time my foot caught on an uneven part of the path." She relived the last moments of her life in her era. "I didn't notice I had tripped until I was halfway to the ground. The last thing I remember is thinking about how much it was going to hurt when I hit the ground. I suppose I knocked myself out and into the past. The next thing I knew, I woke up on the sofa in the parlor."

Francesca glanced up to the people around her. They all wore looks of disbelief, except for Elizabeth, who was overcome with excitement; she was already formulating a plan to have Francesca stay at their home until further notice. The Commodore spoke up first.

"Well learning that rather…um…interesting…bit of information I will be taking my leave. Good day, Will, Elizabeth, Miss Demers," and with some hostility, "Sparrow." He walked past Francesca and out the front door, making his way down the road and toward his rooms.

Will pulled Jack aside into the parlor to discuss Jack's 'business' dealings. This left Francesca alone with Elizabeth, who was the only person remotely eager to talk to Francesca. Elizabeth stood up and said to Francesca, "It seems that you will be staying with us indefinitely, so that calls for a tour of the house and a room for you to stay in. So, if you would just follow me."

Elizabeth was making her was toward the stairs and wanted Francesca to follow her. Francesca thought to herself _I suppose I don't have much choice, there isn't anywhere else for me to go. _She got up off the floor and closed the front door, following Elizabeth up the stairs and into the rest of the house.

* * *

><p>Francesca had learned the entire history of the house by the time Elizabeth had finished her tour. She knew who built the house, where the furniture came from, and how the Turner's had acquired the address (which was the fact that Elizabeth's father had decided to travel once she was married and given the house and its contents to the Turners). She was impressed with the home, which was saying a lot since she was raised in New York's Upper East Side.<p>

Elizabeth had talked throughout the entirety of the tour, but Francesca had stopped paying attention by the time they got to the sixth guest room. She had instead opted to look at the ornate furniture and paintings on the walls. It continued like that for about an hour; Elizabeth babbled, Francesca looked around.

When they found themselves at a guest room at the end of the hall Elizabeth went inside and started rummaging through the wardrobe. "Francesca, is it alright that I call you that?" Francesca nodded dumbly, finally coming out of her bored haze. "People are going to begin to ask where you came from, so I have come up with the perfect solution."

Elizabeth pulled a dressing robe out of the wardrobe and handed it to Francesca. She took in Francesca's meager attire, "You'll have to wear some of my dresses until we get some made for you."

"Oh, you don't have to…" Francesca started to protest, putting on the dressing robe, but Elizabeth cut in, "To fit with the plan we will have to get some gowns made in the latest styles… and some hats…and you'll need some new shoes…if fact I think we'll have to go all out and buy you an entire wardrobe."

Francesca had no idea what was going on, "Mrs. Turner, what exactly is your…um… plan?" _This is beginning to sound like the CIA; secret plans and everything._

"Just call me Elizabeth dear." She continued, "My plan is to tell everyone that you are a distant cousin from France, since your name is obviously French already. We will say that you are visiting for an extended amount of time. The new gowns will have to be made to fit with the story that all of your belongings were lost at sea oh…um…in a shipwreck." Elizabeth nodded to herself, "Yes, that's good…oh, and that Captain Sparrow rescued you and brought you here, because he is in Port Royal unexpectedly to begin with; people will wonder why he is visiting. And we'll make up the rest of it as we go along. It's perfect!" Elizabeth gripped her hands together, "Now we have to get Will and Jack to go along with it, and James because he already met you. Francesca, what do you think?"

Elizabeth looked to Francesca, who put on a smile, _no one in their right mind will believe it,_ "Oh, its wonderful Elizabeth. And I speak French already!" _It's not a complete lie, I used to speak French with Grandmamma… in high school. This might be harder than I expected._

"This is going to be great! Now let's go find the boys!" Elizabeth practically ran out the door of the room and down the stairs. Francesca stayed behind for a few seconds and whispered quietly to herself, "this is crazy." Before following Elizabeth back downstairs in her newly acquired clothing.

* * *

><p>"…and we could just say that Jack brought her back. That would erase any rumors about why he is in Port Royal." Elizabeth finished her speech and looked for a reaction from the men. They didn't think it was believable, Francesca could see that from their faces. Jack thought for a moment then spoke, "Me, the unsung hero. That's not very plausible, why would I save one woman from drowning? Particularly one that almost had me arrested by the Commodore."<p>

"Because she would have said that she knew the Turner's in Port Royal and that she was related to Elizabeth. You would have known that I would have killed you if I had learned that you had left my most beloved cousin and friend to die, so you brought her to Port Royal on the Black Pearl. Please Jack, get over your resentment, she didn't know who you were. If I had been in her position I would have done the same thing." Elizabeth said clearly frustrated.

Will glanced at Francesca who was seated on the sofa next to Jack, unwillingly of course, "Can you speak French?"

"I used to. I think with a little practice I could be fluent again." She looked down at her hands, "And I think if we said I was from England, but that I had lived in France for the past few years it would make it more believable that I was a cousin of Elizabeth's."

As soon as Francesca had spoken the thought, a new idea dawned on Elizabeth's face. "I'll write to my Aunt Margaret, she's the only family I have left, except for father, she'll be sure to back up our arrangement. She might even be convinced to come and stay with us for a while, acting as Francesca's chaperone back to England. That would convince everyone of the legitimacy of Francesca's heritage."

"I suppose it may work, if we don't let anything leak out about where she came from." Will said. He thought to himself, 'And with Elizabeth that will be exceedingly hard.'

"Oh, that's brilliant! I'll write a note to the seamstress right away so that she'll be here tomorrow afternoon, and I'll write that letter to Aunt Margaret." Elizabeth rushed over to her writing desk by the window, and hastily started scrawling out letters. The rest of them sat awkwardly in their seats; not really having much to declare. In the space of about five minutes, Jack had begun to fidget, Francesca started picking at her nails, and Will just stared off into space. When Elizabeth had completed her writings about twenty minutes later they were still in the same position.

"I think that Francesca and I are going to turn in for the night," Elizabeth announced, the men stood as was customary. "You two can stay up and talk about whatever your hearts desire. Goodnight Will, Goodnight Jack." She walked toward the door.

Francesca got up from the sofa and followed, but not before saying goodnight to the men. "Goodnight Mr. Turner." And with a little venom, "Mr. Sparrow."

"Goodnight Miss Demers," Will replied with a smile.

"Goodnight…Franny," Jack said with a smirk, he had somehow guessed that she would hate being called that. He was absolutely going to love torturing the lovely Miss Demers. He might even extend his stay in Port Royal to do just that.

_Oh goodie, now he knows my most hated nickname. This is going to be a jolly good time, now isn't it? _Francesca quickly followed Elizabeth out of the room, not wanting to stay a moment longer with the infuriating pirate.

They walked in silence until they arrived at the same guest room that Elizabeth had gotten the dressing robe from. Francesca was still a little miffed from her run ins with Jack.

"I know Jack is a hassle, but you learn to get used to it. Ever since the first time I met him he's been acting the same maddening way." Elizabeth said as they walked into the room. She lit a few lamps and pulled the curtains back on the bed. "I think this room will suit you just fine, don't you think? It can stay like this for now, but since you might end up living here you can change anything you like."

Francesca didn't really listen to the second half of what Elizabeth had said. _So the Turners have known Jack for awhile. I wonder, _"Exactly how long have you known Jack?" she asked as she looked around the room.

"I think we've known him for a couple of years, but it seems like much longer because we've been through so much together." Elizabeth sat down on the bed and thought about past times, "I guess we've all led each other on a few escapades."

Francesca was intrigued. How could the Turners be friends with someone so unlike them? She sat down next to Elizabeth and asked, "What sort of 'escapades' have the three of you been on anyway?"

Expecting a short answer, Francesca was in for a doozy when Elizabeth recounted their full history together; from the very beginning to the current date. Not thinking that the story would take so long, she listened attentively, and didn't notice when the hour became late. When they finally looked at the time they found it to be far past the normal bedtime of people in that day.

"Oh my, it's late." Elizabeth exclaimed, "I've kept you up for far too long, and you've had a big day already." Elizabeth hopped off the bed and hurried over to the wardrobe. She fished out a nightgown for Francesca to wear. "You'll have to wear this until we have some made for you," she said handing it to Francesca.

"Well I'll see you in the morning dear." Elizabeth said as she exited the room and went down the hall toward her own chambers.

Francesca held the nightgown up and looked at it. It was full of ribbons and lace. _Disgusting. Just like something mother would have bought me. These dresses we're buying better not be full of lace and ribbons, plain and simple that's good enough for me. I gave up frills a long time ago. _Francesca shed her running clothes that she would never wear again and put on the nightgown. The silk felt nice against her skin. _I might be able to get used to this again, if everything feels like this._

She climbed up into the four poster bed and slid under the sheets. She put her head down on the pillow never had she been this tired. _Now this is the life, feather pillows and silk nightgowns. I don't think they got up late in the eighteenth century either; no more five a.m. wake up calls. I definitely think I could get used to this. _

Francesca thought of all the benefits of living in the time period as she drifted off to sleep. Not realizing that in the morning there would be no running water and absolutely no more jeans.

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><p>Please let me know what you think!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Like I would have the genius to come up with it on my own…and I don't think I roll around in money every night…

**Chapter 4**

The next morning Francesca awoke to something she had not heard in a very long time; complete silence. She opened her eyes to find herself looking at the inside of the drapes on her bed. She rolled onto her back and looked up as though she was going to look at the ceiling, but instead she was looking at the covering of the bed once again. Determined to get of the bed's dark confides she sat up and pushed back the curtain. She was met with an overwhelming burst of sunlight pouring upon her eyes.

She threw off the blankets and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Setting her feet upon the floor she stood up and looked at the room around her. Running her hand along the raised pattern of the draperies on the bed she made her way to the window. Someone had already come in and pulled back the curtains; which was the reason Francesca was met with such a bright awakening. She looked at the scene before her through the window. The glass had a full view of the harbor. She could see the people milling about on the docks and the crews getting ready to make sail. She turned away from the window and looked at the clock on the mantle above the fireplace. It was ten-thirty…she hadn't slept that late for a very long time.

Deciding that the rest of the household was already up and running by the looks of the town, she chose to get ready to go downstairs. She looked down at her current attire. _Oh great all I have is this…hideous nightgown. Not that I have anything else to wear. Now where did I throw that dressing robe? _She gazed around the room and walked to the other side of the bed. She saw the dressing robe lying in a pile by the side of the bed; she picked it up and put it on, tying it tightly around her waist so the nightgown was not visible. Having no shoes or even slippers she put her socks from the day before back on. She walked over to the vanity and looked at her brunette head in the mirror. _God, I look horrible. And I can't find anything, not even a comb. Well no use worrying, this is as good as its going to get. _

Francesca walked to the door and opened it to the hallway. She stuck her head outside and looked around as if she were smuggling something out of the room. When she decided that it was the 'all clear' she walked out of her room and into the hallway. She made her way in the direction she thought the stairs were. Walking down the hall in her socks and a dressing robe that was just a tad too long, she took time to look at the portraits on the walls more closely.

They all had a resemblance to the woman she had met the night before. She saw likenesses in their eyes, lips, and even just the way they had looked at the artist. But she noticed that none of the subjects had any similarity to Elizabeth's husband Will. Francesca had thought that if Will had any portraits of his relatives, that they would have been hung here when the Turner's had moved in. She then remembered the circumstances in which Elizabeth had met Will, as Elizabeth had told her last night. She glanced back to the wall, _it's such a pity…it would have been nice to see what Will's relatives looked like. _She again started her journey to the stairs, and within a few steps she was at the top of them.

She slowly put one foot in front of the other and descended the stairs, while holding on to the carved handrail. As she placed her feet on the floor at the bottom of the staircase she was suddenly hit with the fact that she didn't know where anyone was. She thought they might be in the parlor, where she met them before. _I'll look there first, it should be too late for breakfast, and it's the only place I remember how to get to. _She opened the door and looked in, they weren't there. _Now I have to go look for them…oh goody. _She closed the door and turned to the entryway. The door across from her was most likely the dining room…and the next place she was going to look. She wrapped her hand around the door handle. _Oh please just let them be in here. I'd feel stupid looking all over the house. _She turned the handle and the latch clicked, opening the door, she looked inside. They were in there, _thank you, thank you, thank you. _

Elizabeth heard the latch of the door click and looked up, "Francesca, good morning. Did you sleep well?"

Bewildered for a few moments Francesca answered, "Oh, yes. I slept very well." She was still standing by the door.

"Please come in. Sit down and have something to eat, we were just finishing our breakfast, weren't we Will?" She asked him the rhetorical question.

Will was entirely engrossed in his soft boiled egg and absent mindedly answered her question, "Yes, dear."

"Don't mind him, he's such a grumpy old man in the morning." Elizabeth spouted. She stood and offered a seat to Francesca who gratefully took it. She took her seat again, "So what would you like for breakfast?"

"Anything's fine. Really, I'm not very picky." _Which supports the fact that you've added a little pudge to your frame the past few weeks. _She fiddled with her silverware for a moment, "I suppose some fruit would be nice…"

"Perfect! The cook just bought some in the market this morning. I already had a taste and I found it wonderfully perfect. Especially the oranges..and the…"

Will looked up from his exceedingly interesting soft boiled egg, "Elizabeth, you're rambling. I'm sure our guest would like to eat and get on with her day. Yammering on about the fruit is not going to make it go any faster." He turned back to his egg with a grumble.

"Oh dear, I am so sorry. It was so rude of me to keep you from your breakfast." Elizabeth had a look of worry plastered onto her face.

"No really, it's fine. I'm not extremely hungry, and from what I can see we'll be at the house the whole day, I can get something to eat anytime I want." She tried to soothe the harried Elizabeth. It appeared that it worked, for the worry soon passed from Elizabeth's face.

"Yes, I suppose that is close to correct. Will, you were overreacting, why Francesca wasn't that hungry anyway."

Will had just finished his breakfast and leaned back in his chair, "She was just saying that to appease you Elizabeth."

Elizabeth turned to Francesca again and asked, "Did you really say that just to make me happy? Because if you did it's alright, Will and Jack do it all the time. I'm almost used to it."

Francesca gave Will a pointed look from down the table, she said cautiously, "I guess I might have."

"Okay. Well we have more important things to worry about today."

Both Will and Francesca answered, "We do?"

Elizabeth hurried on, "Not you Will, Francesca and I, but I guess some of it might concern you too Will. We have a full schedule." Francesca looked to Will for some kind of answer and was met with a look of alarm. _These schedules of Elizabeth's must be something, if Will doesn't like them. But then again he does look somewhat like a pansy. _

Will asked what both of them wanted to, "What's on the schedule?"

"Let's see…at eleven-thirty Jack is coming over to discuss something with you and to bring me something, at one the dressmaker is expected to arrive to fit Francesca for her wardrobe, then we're all going down to the docks to inspect some shipments, then we're coming back to have dinner here. So I guess the schedule isn't too full today." A look of relief passed over Will's face.

"Is this schedule thing a daily occurrence?" Francesca asked under her breath to Will.

"Yes." Will groaned, "and usually it's a lot worse. You got an easy one today…just wait, you'll see a full schedule soon enough. You'll never be the same." Will stood up and excused himself from the table. Francesca and Elizabeth sat while Francesca finished her breakfast.

When Francesca had placed the last piece of fruit in her mouth Elizabeth sprang up with new energy and announced, "We have to get you ready! Jack's going to be here any minute."

Francesca scowled, "Do I really have to talk to him?" Even after weighing the pros and cons of the man, she still couldn't find any reason to even mildly like the man, in fact there were no pros they were all cons. He was a lecher through and through to her.

"Yes you need to talk to him. We're going down to the docks together today and he's coming back here for dinner. If you just get over the initial shock of when you met him, he's not such a bad person." Elizabeth was trying her best to try to get her to talk civilly toward Jack. Elizabeth couldn't have them fighting when Jack moved into the house for the rest of the month; not that she was going to tell Francesca that tidbit of information now.

"I suppose I can try to get along with him…but I'm not promising anything." She grumbled.

"Good. Let's go." Elizabeth rushed Francesca out of her seat and up the stairs so fast Francesca didn't have time to blink. They stopped at Elizabeth's room and opened the door. The room was beautiful, Francesca could admit that, but it was an utter mess. Clothes were strewn everywhere…didn't she have a maid to clean it all up? Elizabeth was already looking through the clothes that were not on the floor and throwing them around. "First we need to get you into some underclothes, then a dress that's suitable."

"I don't think I'll fit into anything that's yours…I'm a little more, how do you say…pudgy."

"No you're not…you're just a little bit more well endowed in the bosom area." Elizabeth gestured to herself and her almost flat chest, then to Francesca whose chest was more than noticeable through her nightgown and dressing robe. "That's not a bad thing; you might just spill over the top of one of my gowns a little. But that won't be a problem when you get your own wardrobe."

"Perhaps it could work for a few days…until I get some clothes of my own." Francesca said. "How long will it take to get my clothes?"

"Well, if I know Mrs. Spelt, the dressmaker, you should have the basics by the day after tomorrow." Elizabeth pulled out some underclothes and handed them to Francesca, "Put these on, then we can choose a dress, and decide if you need a corset or not. You never know with today's fashions."

"Okay." Francesca took the clothes and stepped behind the screen in the room. There she removed her nightgown and dressing robe, but not her socks; her feet were a little cold on the hardwood floor.

"How do they fit?" Elizabeth asked from in front of the screen. She had already settled on what Francesca would wear and was getting impatient.

"They fit pretty well…well the top is a little tight but I guess that can't be helped." She was tugging on it as she emerged from behind the screen.

"Now. I already called the maid to help us get you dressed."

"Why do you need a maid…all I have to do is put on a dress. It's not that hard." She eyed Elizabeth. Who had turned from her and hurried over to the bed where she had laid out Francesca's dress for the day. Francesca had to admit she was curious, she hadn't worn a nice dress since the society ball right before she left her parents house and chose to work for a living. She walked over to the bed and looked at the dress, while it wasn't the most extravagant thing she had ever seen, _thank god_, it would do. Not too lacey, not to dowdy, just what she liked. And her favorite color.

"What do you think? I tried to choose something that wasn't too different from what I was wearing, and a color that would look good on you, because it matches your eyes." Elizabeth was looking nervous again.

"It's beautiful." The green dress was just what she would have picked out herself. The fabric was a solid green but had a soft raised design. Three quarter length sleeves and a low cut neckline, just her style…as much skin as possible.

"I'm glad you like it. Here's Betsy to help us get you ready." The maid named Betsy walked in and looked at Francesca. "Betsy this is Francesca. She's going to be living with us indefinitely. We need to get her ready to go out. She lost all of her clothes so I'm lending her some for a while. I've picked out this dress for her. What do you think? Corset or not?"

Betsy nodded to Francesca and answered Elizabeth, "I think we should go with the corset."

Francesca had heard the word corset. "Why do I need to wear a corset?" she asked Elizabeth

"I need to wear a corset when I wear this dress, and since you're about the same size as me you'll need to too." Elizabeth ushered Francesca over to Betsy who had the corset in her hands. After she had the corset laced she turned Francesca toward the bed. Elizabeth advised, "You might want to hold onto one of the bedposts when she tightens the laces."

"Alright." Francesca lightly placed her hands on the bedposts, _I can take this. Probably nothing…women's situations in stories are always over exaggerated. They most likely—_"ahhhhhh!" Francesca gasped. She couldn't breath, her lungs were being crushed. I_'m going to die…I'm going to die from lack of oxygen._

"That wasn't too bad was it? Betsy's always fast, it's over before you can utter a word." Elizabeth was cheerful as she looked at Francesca, who was clinging onto the bedpost and gasping like a fish out of water. "Stand up straight so we can get this dress on you, then we'll fix your hair."

Francesca pulled herself up and they slipped the gown over her head. She put her arms into the sleeves and they laced the back of the dress up. Elizabeth pulled the socks off Francesca's feet and slipped some slippers onto them. Francesca was still in an oxygen-less daze. Elizabeth and Betsy dragged her over to the vanity and plunked her down and started messing with her hair. When they had finished Francesca had a simple yet elegant coiffure on her head. Betsy had left and Elizabeth was left staring at the mirror with Francesca. She looked good, in fact the gown was perfect for her, well except for the fact that her chest was spilling out of the top a little too much for the liking.

"Not bad, if I do say so myself." Elizabeth said with a smile.

"…yeah…not…bad…" Francesca couldn't get a full breath. She felt as though she were going to pass out. "I can't…breathe."

"Don't worry, after a few hours of practice it won't be so bad. It took me a while to get used to it too." She patted Francesca on the back. "Let's go downstairs, I'm sure Jack is already here."

_Great, Jack's here. Just what I ordered, another confrontation with the dirty man. I can't even breathe…how am I going to come back with any zingers like this. Ughhh, I hate this corset…and I've only been wearing it for ten minutes. This is going to be a very long day…no matter what the schedule says. _

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><p><strong>Please let me know what you think!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**:…I think we get the picture.

**Chapter 5**

Francesca stood and followed Elizabeth, who had started to walk out the door. But not without first taking a last look at herself in the mirror. _Well, I guess it's how you look at this dress. I'm getting either poor relation or common whore. What do I care anyway? I can be anyone I want…I'll just have to work on the accent a little more. _

Francesca exited the room, and started down the hall toward the stairs, following Elizabeth step for step. When they reached the top of the stairway Francesca could hear the men talking, particularly one overzealous and obnoxious voice that made her sick to her stomach, but that might have just been the corset.

Elizabeth glanced over at Francesca. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'm ever going to be."

"Just remember what I said about Jack…he's really not that bad." Elizabeth looked earnestly at Francesca and was met with a pair of rolling green eyes. Francesca just couldn't believe what this woman was telling her. Elizabeth had obviously been blinded by Jack's semi-heroic efforts to save her during her run-in with the pirates that had kidnapped her.

"Francesca, let's go." Elizabeth started to descend the staircase with Francesca not far behind.

As Francesca's feet hit the floor of the entryway, she swore she could smell that smelly smell of Jack coming from the parlor. As they proceeded to move toward the door of the parlor the distinct feeling of dread began to crawl into Francesca's stomach. A whole day with Jack. She had barely known him for an hour and she already hated the grabby man. Now that other man she had met last night, he was a different story. That Norrington man…very nice…very dignified. A good person in her book.

Elizabeth's hand grasped the handle to the parlor door and Francesca gasped for one last breath of air. Elizabeth opened the door and walked inside, Francesca followed reluctantly.

Francesca walked into the parlor and came face to face with Jack, who was currently staring at her more than ample bosom pouring out of her gown. No big surprise there. _Great. There he is, the dirty man, in all his glory. What the hell is he looking at…what he's never seen me before?_

"Hello," Francesca grumbled. She was met with an entirely too enthusiastic answer from Jack. He started ambling toward her.

"Why, Franny its been too long, too long." Jack's eyes gazed over Francesca's body. "This attire is certainly different," Jack leaned in to whisper in Francesca's ear, "but, I do prefer what you were wearing last night…it left very little to the imagination."

"Prick." The corset was restricting her words.

"Franny! What's with these one word answers? Are you already so in love with me that your breath has been taken away by my manly presence?" Jack put one hand over his heart, and the other arm around Francesca's shoulders. She was clearly thrilled.

"You could say that." She was already fuming. How was she going to survive the rest of the day with this abominable man?

Elizabeth cut in, "Look how well you two are getting along!" She was obviously viewing this scene from another planet. Elizabeth was just about to say something else but she was interrupted by a knock at the door front door. The butler brought her a note. "Oh, it looks like Mrs. Spelt can't make it today Francesca. She's going to try and come sometime next week, so you'll just have to wear my clothes until then. So, if that's out of the schedule for today we can spend the rest of the day together and we won't have to end it early."

Jack offered his opinion. "Splendid! Franny and I won't be separated all day." He gave Francesca's shoulders a little squeeze. "Isn't this great Franny?"

"I can't wait. I'm so excited," she answered in a flat voice, but no one seemed to notice, least of all Will who was busy staring out the window.

"So…Jack what did you bring me," Elizabeth asked.

Francesca answered in her mind, _he brought you an annoying smelly person..oh wait! That's him!_

"During some of our…" he took a sideways glace at Francesca, "…excursions, I procured some fine things, most of which I am keeping for myself."

_Oh, he's so generous, _Francesca thought.

"But, I do have some gowns that I …" another glance at Francesca, "…_bought _that I thought you might like."

"Jack, I would love them, and I'm sure Francesca would like to wear them also seeing that she doesn't have any wardrobe to speak of. Right Francesca?" Elizabeth moved her eyes to Francesca who was still trapped under the arm of Jack.

"Oh, yes, I would love them," she answered. _Probably stole them…he's not fooling me. _

"Franny would look very nice in the blue..." Jack glanced down at Francesca's chest. "…very nice indeed." What Jack didn't notice was that Francesca was watching every move both his body and his eyes made. When his eyes came to rest on her chest, she elbowed him…hard. Jack sputtered, "Why Franny! Why would you do that to poor old Jack?"

"I don't know maybe you could tell me," she said slyly. Jack, of course, already knew the answer.

Elizabeth decided to change the subject. "Well, what should we do now?"

Will spoke up, "We could take naps." Elizabeth ignored him.

"We weren't supposed to go inspect shipments until after the dressmaker left and that would have been around three, so I guess we have some free time." Elizabeth was trying to find something that would make Francesca warm up to Jack, if only a little. It was going to be bad enough when they told her Jack was going to be staying with them for the rest of the month, all they needed was a fit of rage coming from their guests. "I guess we could talk a walk around town until we need to go inspect the shipments."

"That sounds normal," Francesca added.

"It'll be fun. We can show Francesca around like we would any other visiting relative." The sound of Elizabeth's voice was getting far too excited. She was formulating a plan.

"I did need to pick up some things from the Pearl…I'm sure Franny would love that. Wouldn't ya Franny?" Jack had finally let go of Francesca and was walking around the room nonchalantly like he wasn't up to something. Francesca and Will were the only ones left out of the loop.

"Lovely," Francesca answered sarcastically.

Elizabeth found that this was the perfect plan to get them to like each other, a little bit. Now all they had to do was get Will and Francesca out of the house and down into the town. She decided to move things along a little. "Well, there's no time like the present. If we don't get going now we'll never get there!"

"Then let's go dear." Will was already standing by the door looking as if he was in tune with the conversation the entire time.

Francesca was itching to get out in the open air, being trapped in the same room with Jack for more than ten minutes was starting to wear on her nerves. She was moving toward the door with Will, it seemed they both had the same idea in mind. Elizabeth and Jack were still standing in the same place, they obviously hadn't gotten the memo yet.

"Whenever your ready Jackie." Francesca watched as Jack's jaw tightened, _this is going to be better than I thought. _

"Oh, I'm ready Franny," Jack answered walking toward her. He leaned in close, "just waitin' for you to make the next move."

"Don't count on it _Jackie._"

"I wouldn't expect any less from ya _Franny_."

"Now let's stop bickering and get going," Elizabeth cut in and stepped in-between them.

"Yes, let's," Francesca spat at Jack who just gave her a smirk.

The group walked out of the room and to the front door. As they exited Francesca swore she could feel someone brush her behind through the six thousand layers of fabric encompassing her body.

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><p>"…and that's the butcher shop, and that's the blacksmith's, and that's the pub, and that's…" This tour was going the same way the tour of the house had gone, long and boring. Francesca had once again zoned out but this time she was joined by Will and Jack who had both found other topics to ponder.<p>

A tour which would normally take Francesca fifteen minutes took Elizabeth and hour. The situation wasn't improved by the fact that the corset was still limiting Francesca's oxygen intake, she spent most of the time focusing on breathing alone. It was hot too. Not dry heat, oh no. Moist, humid heat that made Francesca's armpits sweat. She was sure she had some pretty impressive sweat marks. It didn't help that Elizabeth made them walk up and down the same hill four hundred times.

"I think that's it," Elizabeth concluded.

_Oh, thank you God. Thank You!_ Francesca felt like bowing down and praising God for his wonderful ending to the tour from hell.

"Oh thank the Lord Lizzy! I thought you'd never shut up." Jack was obviously less concerned with voicing his opinions. "Look at poor Franny here, she looks like she's on her last leg. She's gonna die of boredom!"

"Oh, no, I loved it Elizabeth! It was very…," she was searching for the right word, "informative?" She was trying not to hurt Elizabeth's feelings.

"Don't say things like that Franny! I know ya were bored. I musta seen ya fiddle with that ribbon on you sleeve at least four times a minute." Jack was jesting, but Francesca somehow misinterpreted his tone.

"Well I wouldn't say things like _that _Jackie, if I had been gazing off into space for at least ten minutes at a time! Not to mention twirling your hair, which was a pastime I thought was reserved for lovesick girls!" Francesca was just about at her limit. It appeared Jack was too, he was just a little better at hiding it, but it was about to break loose. But, Jack being the gentleman that he was got his anger under control before he let any of them see it. He directed his next statement to Will.

"I don't see why you expect me to get along with this person, she doesn't like me. And I don't know how I'm expected to live with her for a month if she continues to act like that. Couldn't we just get rid of her or something? It wouldn't be that hard."

"He's living with us for a month?" This was just the beginning of Francesca's all day rant.

"Well he did need a place to stay, and Will and I are such good friends with him that we invited him to stay at our home. And these plans were made before you came to Port Royal, so we have to honor them." Elizabeth was calmly explaining the situation to Francesca while the men looked on. As soon as the problem was resolved, or seemed to be on the surface, they resumed the walk. Jack and Francesca resumed bickering.

The bickering continued throughout the day and into the night. Needless to say Will and Elizabeth had very strong headaches by the time they went to bed. When Jack had finally left, the house quieted down. Francesca went to bed, and didn't stop herself from complaining the entire time she was walking up the stairs and down the hallway, Will and Elizabeth could hear her from the parlor.

"It's going to be a long month," Elizabeth remarked.

Will nodded, "that it is."

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><p>Please let me know what you think!<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Enjoy!

**Chapter 6**

_About a week after Francesca's arrival…and a few days after Jack moved into the Turner residence…_

Francesca was sitting in the parlor, having come to the realization that she was probably stuck in this time period indefinitely. Needless to say, she was starting to worry. What was Julie ever going to do without her? What was going to happen to her apartment? Her things? Her complete collection of _Will and Grace_? What would her parents think? Would they finally be glad she was gone, or would they grieve? Her job?Her…her life?

It hit her like a rock to the head. Her life as she knew it was over. Francesca was never going to see the people she cared about ever again, the mere thought brought tears to her eyes. _I never apologized to mom and dad. They'll think I'm dead or gone forever. I still love them. They get on my nerves…but I love them. And Julie will think I got abducted in the park. She won't be able to live with herself._

Francesca let the tears roll down her cheeks, she hadn't really cried in years. She chose instead to drown her sorrows in liquor, which was evident from the extensive collection she had in her kitchen at home. Home. She didn't have a home anymore, and she couldn't continue to live off Elizabeth and Will for the rest of her life. And she certainly didn't want to have to live across the hall from Jack Sparrow either. She punched a pillow next to her to release her frustration. She was just going to have to put some aspects of the past behind her, and focus now on the present.

What ever possessed Elizabeth to put Jack across the hall from her when Elizabeth damn well knew she couldn't stand the man? She had to look at him everyday now, and it irked her. At breakfast and dinner she had to listen to his nauseatingly boring stories about his boat. A boat! No, well wait, it was a _ship _as he put it, she better not get it wrong. Oh, and, did he have any other clothes? Obviously not since he insisted on wearing the same thing everyday. He smelled. Not that she actually smelled him, but she was sure that he smelled.

Just this morning Francesca was coming out of her room quietly so she wouldn't wake him up, and what happens? There he was in all his glory smirking at her from across the hall.

"Ah, Franny, would you like me to escort you to breakfast this morning?"

"No." Francesca started walking toward the stairs. Jack got it together and came after her.

"My dear, I thought we had something between us." Jack seemed to ask this pleadingly, but Francesca knew better. She didn't look at him and kept walking down the hallway.

"If you believe that, _my dear, _you obviously must be a little touched in the head, because I don't remember having any special connection to you," she was fuming. Jack left her at the top of the staircase since he was more focused on breakfast than her.

This is the was it was every morning. Francesca was getting extremely annoyed with Jack Sparrow.

She was almost fed up. She was going to kill him someday, to put herself out of misery.

And Jack had only been at the Turner house for three days. He was staying a month.

What a cruel world it was.

Francesca made it to breakfast, without an escort. Muttering to herself until she reached the door to the dining room.

"Ughh…I hate him…stupid…annoying…smelly…bastard!" Francesca took a deep breath before she opened the door to the dining room, and steeled herself for another wonderful day. She plastered a content look on her face so the Turners wouldn't think she was unhappy. She opened the door and was met with a dazzling morning smile from Elizabeth. _I hate morning people. _

"Good morning Francesca!" Elizabeth was clearly ecstatic over something, since she had been waiting for Francesca at the door. She pulled a note from her pocket, and started waving it around, "Mrs. Spelt said she could come today! You're going to get a complete wardrobe! You'll have dresses and chemises and corsets and…," Elizabeth was still rambling.

Francesca feigned excitement, "Oh that's wonderful. I'm so excited!" _Prodding and pins and…corsets? Oh no I'll have to wear one for the rest of my life!_

"Please excuse my wife's ranting Francesca, she simply loves clothing too much." Will was in a good mood, and he loved getting on his wife's nerves.

"…and we'll have to get you gloves and…," Elizabeth heard Will's comment and turned to him, "William Turner I am not ranting!"

"Of course dear." Then under his breath, "could've fooled me."

"Please disregard him Francesca," Elizabeth took her arm and led her to the table, "you must be famished."

Francesca took her seat and nodded to Elizabeth. She was hungry. Then she looked across the table and completely lost her appetite. Every morning she had to look at him from across the table. She had to look at his dirty fingernails every morning while she tried to eat. Though he did having surprisingly good table manners. He held up a pear.

"Franny, these pears are especially good. You should try one." Then he threw the piece of fruit to her, or rather at her. But she caught it, she played softball for six years. Francesca smiled at him.

"Thanks…_dear._" Francesca narrowed her eyes at him. Jack narrowed his eyes at Francesca. She knew this look…it was war.

* * *

><p>Later, after breakfast had ended and the men had retired to Will's office. Mrs. Spelt arrived along with her crew of seamstresses.<p>

Mrs. Spelt was a fashionable woman, married and widowed at a young age she had to start her own business to support herself. She arrived looking splendid in a robin's egg blue ensemble and greeted Elizabeth and Francesca with open arms. Francesca was thinking it wasn't going to be that bad, Mrs. Spelt seemed like a nice woman. Francesca had gotten worked up for nothing.

Elizabeth showed Mrs. Spelt and her helpers up to Francesca's room, where they would take the fittings. Mrs. Spelt whipped out her measuring tape and instructed Francesca to perch herself on the stand they had placed in the center of the room. Then they stripped her. Well, they didn't exactly strip her, they just removed her clothing down to what she imagined were supposed to be underwear.

Mrs. Spelt took measurements of her body faster than Francesca believed was humanly possible. Francesca thought that was all that she was going to do, so when Mrs. Spelt finished measuring her Francesca started to get down off of the stand.

"That was easier than I expected." Francesca let a breath she had been holding and smiled at Elizabeth.

Mrs. Spelt turned, "Dear, we're not done yet."

"Oh, ok." Francesca returned to her perch. And put on her poker face, it's better not to show them your fear.

Mrs. Spelt and her assistants came at her with yards of fabric and a box of pins. This day just kept getting worse.

Mrs. Spelt did everything Francesca thought she would. She poked, prodded and pinched Francesca. She even insulted her, well kind of. The Speltmonster had the nerve to say that Francesca's body was too 'well endowed' to be considered pretty. And she said it in her sweet, sappy nice seamstress voice. Francesca would never forgive her, even if she did, as Elizabeth said, make the best dresses this side of the Atlantic.

As soon as the Speltmonster left, promising to have her first dresses done and deliver in the next few days, Francesca walked to the library, selected a book and stalked to the parlor.

Intent on losing herself in a book, Francesca didn't bother to look around when she threw open the door to the parlor. Looking at the book in her hand her mind wandered, _what I wouldn't give for a TV and some satellite. _

Not bothering to take care of the dress she was wearing, Francesca plopped herself on the divan in the parlor and laid down. She flung her arm over her eyes and groaned. It was hard to believe a life of doing practically nothing could be so stressful. And she'd only been at it for a week. _This is even harder than my job…of course all I ever did was flirt with the boss. _

"Look's like we're back at the scene of the crime luv." Jack was leaning over the back of the settee gazing at Francesca, who didn't really care that he was there.

"Ughhh. Life sucks." Francesca still had her arm over her eyes. Jack was a little confused over her comment.

"Life does what?"

"Sucks."

"What?" He still didn't understand, Francesca was using a phrase he wouldn't ever hear.

"Life's horrendous." Francesca moved her arm and looked up at the pirate leaning over her. _If you get past all that dirt…he is a very handsome man. Kinda looks like Johnny Depp…weird._

"Life can be bad, but I have adapted. Why just a few years ago I was marooned on an island with nothing but my-" Jack was starting to get worked up.

"I know that story already." Francesca did know the story and wouldn't have minded hearing it straight from the source, but right now she wanted a little peace and quiet. "I think we should just sit in this room nice and quiet for a while. Couldn't you use a little relaxation?"

"I suppose I could use some relaxation," Jack said. "Living with you is mighty stressful."

"It's pretty bad living with you too. You get on my nerves." Francesca was actually smiling at him.

"Why that's my job."

"Yeah, and it's my job to be hear for your benefit."

"Exactly." Jack had moved to the chair opposite of the divan, and propped his legs up on the new coffee table.

"Let's bask in the silence. Ok?" Francesca was calming down since her run in with the Speltmonster.

"I hear ya." Jack leaned his head on the back of the chair and closed his eyes. Jack was taking a nap.

Francesca picked up her book and started to read. After about ten minutes her eyes started to droop. _Man, I'm tired. I'll just rest my eyes for a minute. _Francesca closed her eyes to _rest _them.

About two hours later Will and Elizabeth were looking for Francesca and Jack, in different rooms of course. Elizabeth looked in the parlor and was met with a site she never thought she would ever see. She quietly closed the door, and went to find Will. Elizabeth found Will looking for Jack in the kitchen.

"Will, come look at this. Walk quietly."

Will followed Elizabeth to the parlor. Just before she opened the door she put her finger to her lips. She opened the door and they both looked inside.

"Wow. Never thought I'd see that."

Will and Elizabeth never thought they'd live to see the day Francesca and Jack would stop fighting long enough to fall asleep in the same room together.

* * *

><p>By the time Francesca and Jack had been awakened by Will and Elizabeth it was almost time for dinner. Francesca and Elizabeth had to dress for the meal, so they both took to their rooms to change. As they walked up the stairs they discussed Francesca's encounter in the parlor.<p>

"You were right Elizabeth, Jack isn't so terrible," Francesca was smiling, "even though he does tend to get on my nerves."

"I told you he was like that, he just takes getting used to." Elizabeth was glad they were getting along, it was going to make the rest of the month more bearable.

They reached the top of the stairs and started to walk in opposite directions down the hall.

"Francesca," Elizabeth called, "the commodore is coming for dinner tonight. I put out the green dress for you, the first one you wore when we went to town. Oh, and try not to argue with Jack through dinner," she added with a touch of humor.

"I'll try."

Francesca walked into her room and glared at the dress on the bed. It was a pretty dress. In fact it was a beautiful dress, it was just too small. The maid was waiting to lace Francesca up in the corset. Francesca was breathing while it was still possible.

"Let's do this." Francesca set her jaw. She was going to wear that dress and she was going to wear it well.

After the dreaded battle of the corset the gown was put over her head and adjusted. Francesca looked to the mirror above the vanity, she looked good. Damn Mrs. Spelt she was jealous.

* * *

><p>Francesca left her room for dinner and found that the group was in the parlor. <em>I seem to be in there a lot lately.<em>

Francesca opened the door to the parlor and was greeted cordially by everyone in attendance, including Jack. After they had talked for about an hour, the butler announced that dinner was to be served.

They were seated, and Francesca had to bite back a laugh. Elizabeth, trying to be nice to Francesca since she was a real guest, had seated Jack and the Commodore next to each other, across from Francesca. They were already glaring at each other. _This is going entertaining _Francesca was smiling at the two men.

They talked amicably throughout the entire meal, although Jack did bait Francesca a few times, but she caught herself before she said anything inappropriate. Francesca and Commodore Norrington chatted about how her stay was going, and Francesca found that she like talking with the Commodore.

But, there were a few things that continued to nag at the back of her mind during dinner. Like the impeccable way the Commodore dressed. He lived alone didn't he? No womanly touches to influence his wardrobe. And the perfect way he spoke. Didn't he know he was a man and was allowed to raise his voice for effect once and a while? Oh, and the way he talked with his hands all flitterly and such. Wait…talked with his hands, dressed well by himself, and had impeccable manners. _Oh…my…God…he's—_

"Francesca?...Francesca?" Elizabeth was looking at her from across the table. Everyone else had left the dining room. She had been sitting there think about the Commodore.

"Commodore Norrington left dear. It's time for us to retire for the evening."

"Oh, yes." Francesca rose from the table and walked into the entryway. Jack was talking to Will by the staircase. Jack saw Francesca coming.

"Franny I was worried about ya. Ya just seemed to stare at the wall above my head. Or were ya thinking about me in your fantasies?"

"Yeah, that's it Jack, I was fantasizing about you." Francesca walked past him to go up the stairs, and he followed.

"Anyway, Franny, the Commodore seemed to like ya." They had reached the landing.

"Of course he liked me. I'm a gay magnet." She had to tell someone what she thought of the Commodore, and Jack had proposed just the right question.

"A what?" Jack was again confused by her language.

"The Commodore's gay." Francesca didn't know Jack was confused.

"The Commodore's happy?" Nope, Jack was still confused.

"No. He's gay." Jack shook his head. "You know _gay. _Flamboyant?"

"Nope, I don't understand." Jack just kept getting more and more confused. They looked like two gossiping old ladies walking down the hall.

"He likes men!" They had reached their rooms.

"I like men. I like women too." Jack was hopeless.

"No! I mean he _likes _men. Come on Jack it's weird having to explain this to you." Francesca was getting uncomfortable, she started inching toward her door.

"Oh…," understanding was dawning on his face, "…wait you mean he likes men!"

"Isn't that what I've been saying?"

"As in LOVES men?"

"Yes Jack. But it's just a hunch."

"And I was sitting by him?" Jack was getting worried. "Do you think he _likes _me?"

"No. I think you infuriate him." Francesca had her hand on the handle to her room.

"Good. I was going for that." Jack started moving toward his room too.

"You're always going for that Jack," Francesca chuckled. _Maybe it isn't war after all, maybe we'll get along._

"Goodnight Jack." She turned to her door. She didn't see Jack cross the hall to stand behind her.

"Night…Franny," he breathed in her ear. Francesca felt the distinct outline of a hand on her rear end, but as soon as she went to say something to Jack his door had closed. He was still the same man she had met a week ago.

_One second thought, strike that…it is war! _ Francesca smiled to herself and walked into her room, intent on getting a good night's sleep and beginning her war in the morning.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!...Sorry it took so long...school started again...<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Enjoy!

**Chapter 7**

Francesca had been trapped in the prison of the Turner household for three weeks. Three weeks with Elizabeth, Will, and Jack.

Three weeks with Jack.

What had started as an ultimate punishment for sins she didn't know about, wasn't so bad anymore. They were actually starting to get along…well sometimes. They had the same routine every morning, and bickered over breakfast, but it wasn't stinging like the jabs they had made before. Lying in bed, Francesca was beginning to think that if Jack weren't there she would have killed herself out of boredom.

Francesca let her hand skim across the duvet on her bed, relishing in the richness of the fabric, _I guess I could get one more hour of sleep. _Then she heard something break from across the hall that sounded suspiciously like a window, and the sounds of someone swearing at the offending window. _Just let me guess who that is. _

Seeing as that the entire house was probably up, Francesca decided to drag herself out of bed. Jack was still in an uproar over the window. _Although life would be peaceful without him talking constantly. Ugh! Someone needs to tell him to be quiet for once in his life!_

The maid knocked and came into her room, to begin the daily ritual of getting Francesca ready for the day. How these women did this every day from practically birth was beyond her. Layers and layers of clothing, strings and laces, and not to mention the horror of her hair, which hadn't seen any Paul Mitchell shampoo. Just trying to tango with her hair was at least forty-five minutes out of her incredibly busy day. Francesca snorted, and the maid gave her an odd look, Francesca quickly composed her features.

Busy day? The last time she had seen a busy day, she was still working in New York for barely enough money to live on. Now it didn't matter if she wanted to get up or not. She did basically the same thing every day. She got up, ate breakfast, read a book, secretly drank some of the Turners wine, then went to dinner and bed, there was the occasional run in with Jack somewhere, but it didn't happen terribly often. Elizabeth usually did the same thing minus the wine, and Will and Jack holed up in Will's office or went to do something by the docks. It didn't matter if she got up or not, she would still be bored the entire day.

She wanted to get out of the house. It was a prison. The last time she had seen the outside world was the tour Elizabeth had given her, and Francesca wanted to see the things Elizabeth didn't want her to.

Francesca wanted to go down to the waterfront and see for herself what all the commotion was about. She wanted to meet this Mr. Cotton, and see if he really didn't have a tongue and a parrot talked for him. She wanted to see if the Black Pearl was real. She wanted to see if everything she had ever heard about the eighteenth century was true. She stared back at her reflection over the vanity, her reflection looked bored.

"I need to find a way to get out of here, if only for a half and hour." _Oh, God, I'm talking to myself…I need to get out._

"When ya start talking to yourself, it's a sure sign you're goin' crazy. Course I already knew ya were crazy so this just confirms my suspicions." Jack was leaning against the door frame to her room. This too, was a daily occurrence.

"If talking to yourself is a sign of craziness, Jack, then I would have thought you would have figured it out a long time ago." She loved this. Hook.

"Figured what out?" Line.

"That you're crazy." Sinker. Jack snickered, he knew the game, he just had to wait to get Francesca back.

"You just keep thinkin that luv." Jack walked across her room and went to the window. He set his hand on the glass.

"You better not break my window too." Francesca had risen from her seat and walked over to stand next to Jack. They were both gazing out the window at the harbor.

"My dear Franny, I have no idea what you're talkin about." He was smiling.

"I heard you in there Jackie, you're not fooling me. How did you ever break the window?"

Jack mumbled something Francesca couldn't make out.

"Oh, come on Jackie, aren't we friends?" Francesca sidled up to Jack, who kept his gaze fixed on something in the distance.

"It…it was a hand mirror."

"How did you throw it through the—no wait, why did you have a hand mirror?" Francesca turned to look at Jack with an accusatory twinkle in her eye.

"No particular reason." Jack still wouldn't look at her.

"You were admiring yourself, weren't you?"

"No." He was lying, she could tell.

"You'd better watch yourself. Norrington might get the wrong idea. You know what that means?" Francesca wanted to laugh at the horror that spread across Jack's face. He tried to shake it off, and shrugged his shoulders. Francesca had been trying to confirm her suspicions of Norrington ever since the fateful dinner they had where she figured him out. So far she didn't have any more evidence, but she would, as soon as she got out of this house.

"…humph…," he changed the subject, "that's a nice dress you're wearing."

"You should know Jack you _bought _it." It was a nice dress. A dark midnight blue silk, that complimented Francesca's dark coloring. She looked quite smashing in it.

"I bought it at the best store around, the store were everything's free." Jack smiled at Francesca.

"Yeah, I bet." Jack's hand were especially grubby today, she noticed, and one was on the glass of her window.

"Your hand is staining my window." _Thank you Nurse Ratched. _Jack didn't move his hand. Instead he rubbed his palm all over every pane of glass in the window.

"Well thanks Jackie, make the maids clean even more. Now I can't look out at the harbor I can't go to." Francesca wasn't angry, she had gotten over being angry at Jack, she was just a little annoyed right now.

"That's just the way it is luv." Though he said it in a flippant tone, it caused Francesca's mood to become melancholy.

"Yes, I suppose so. Trapped in a damned house with a damned pirate" She really needed to get out of the house.

"Well, if you're feeling trapped, I suppose I could take ya down to the Pearl with me tomorrow. Only have to be there for a little while, Will and Elizabeth wouldn't even know ya were gone."

Francesca looked up to Jack, "You would do that for me?"

"Why not? Ya put up with me for three weeks, I think ya deserve a little…ah what do ya call it…reprieve." Jack was smiling a lot today.

_Good God is he handsome. If I could get my hands on some soap, I could make him gorgeous._

"Jackie, that would be just marvelous!" Francesca let go of her inhibitions and hugged Jack, who wrapped his arms around her frame. _He smells good too, all earthy and rugged. _They stayed like this for about fifteen seconds, then they realized what they were doing. They jumped apart and Jack cleared his throat.

"I have to…," he was struggling as he moved toward the door, "Breakfast!" Jack left the door to the room and went down the hall, seemingly intent on getting to breakfast as quick as possible. Francesca was left alone in her room.

"Well, that was awkward."

* * *

><p>Later when they were all sitting in the parlor, reading of course, Elizabeth received a message.<p>

"Oh, my, I wasn't expecting a reply so soon." This caught the attention of everyone in the room.

"Who is it from dear," Will asked as Elizabeth scanned the letter.

"It's from Aunt Margaret," Elizabeth smiled at Francesca, "she loves the idea of Francesca posing as a distant cousin. I believe her exact words on the matter were 'this idea is scandalously delicious. I can't wait to meet the girl, she sounds fantastic.'"

"Now I have to brush up on my French," Francesca groaned. The horror of pronouns was all coming back to her.

"That's not all. Aunt Margaret is already on her way to Port Royal, she wants to meet Francesca as soon as possible and discuss the possibilities with her." Elizabeth quickly read the letter to the room. "She believes that we will lie about your age and take you to both England and France to 'catch' a husband. Oh, and it says here that her husband, Thomas, thinks the idea would be a fun endeavor. It's a shame that Auntie is such a gossip, she's almost certainly told all her friends already, they probably want a hand in it too."

"I'm 'catching' a what?"

"A husband," Elizabeth replied. "It's an entirely reasonable venture, and it would be good to have a husband to live off of, think of all the things you could by. And besides, you don't want to end up an old dried up spinster now do you?"

"I guess not, a man would do me good. Though he would have to be extremely good looking, and have a lot of money. Dashing…yes he would have to be dashing. Do you think I could bag a good looking man in France?" Francesca wasn't overwhelmed by the idea anymore, she was enjoying herself.

"Of course, and think of all the gowns we get to buy for you. Why don't I come too! And Will! We could all travel together!"

"Think of all the gorgeous men out there! Just waiting to be 'caught'!" Francesca was starting to giggle like a school girl, so was Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was excited. "And think of the wedding! A wedding in France, and they have the latest fashions!"

As the women got more excited about the non-existent husband and wedding, the men in the room found that they had become uncomfortable. Jack and Will both got up and started toward the door to the parlor.

"I think we should get out of here," Will said

"Me too," said Jack, "never get in the way of scheming women, it always brings disaster." Jack was all too ready to leave the room, he had felt a strange sensation when Francesca had agreed to get married. It was almost like he didn't want her to. But, it was nothing a little rum couldn't cure.

"How 'bout a drink William?"

"I could go for a drink Jack." And they headed out the front door and down the road to the nearest pub.

The women were still talking in the parlor when Elizabeth looked up. "I guess the boys are gone. Oh well, don't you think this will be fun Francesca?"

"You know what?...I think I might enjoy this little adventure." Francesca had leaned back into the settee.

"I think Auntie will make it great, she's the biggest gossip I know. So you'll be sure to be talked about, and the right way too, she won't let you be snubbed."

"Let's get working Elizabeth, I've got a husband to catch!"

* * *

><p><strong>Let me know what you think!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

Enjoy!

**Chapter 8**

Aunt Margaret and Uncle Thomas Stanton arrived a week following the reading of the letter.

Aunt Margaret was completely unlike what Francesca had expected of her. Expecting an old lady with grey hair and a cap, Francesca was surprised when she was met with a beautiful woman in her mid-fifties whose hair was still dark and who dressed in the latest fashions.

Uncle Thomas was the embodiment of the English gentleman. His salt and pepper hair only added to his sophistication, and his warm eyes along with his wife's only made Francesca feel more comfortable.

When they walked through the door of the Turner house, they were all smiles and helloes, not the usual grudge of weary travelers. They hugged Will and Elizabeth, then they turned to Francesca.

"This must be Francesca," Aunt Margaret said admiringly. "It's a pleasure to but such a beautiful face to a beautiful name."

Francesca was come over by a feeling of relief, "Thank you. It's wonderful to finally meet you, both of you. I'm so thankful you're agreeing to help me."

"Don't worry about that dear, it will be fun. I can't wait to see the face of Caroline Rothschild when we bring a more stunning beauty than her daughter to London. I won't have to listen to her prattle on about her daughter any longer." Aunt Margaret looked at Francesca, "You will bring all of London and Paris to their knees."

"I really don't think that's going to happen," Francesca said.

Aunt Margaret took Francesca's hands in her own, "It will dear. I'll make sure of it. You could have anyone you wanted, maybe even a duke. Don't you think so Thomas?"

"I dare say she could be a candidate for Caroline Rothschild's son dear."

"Oh yes! That would be a sight to see! Caroline's only son, Duke of Standwick, married, to our French cousin Miss Francesca Demers," she paused gleefully, "Oh it's delicious!"

"Excuse me, but don't you need like a dowry to marry someone of stature?" Francesca hadn't been in history class for a while, but she definitely remembered this. No one would marry a woman with no money or connections, no matter how beautiful.

Elizabeth cut in on the conversation, "Maybe we should sit in the parlor and discuss this further."

"Splendid idea Elizabeth," Aunt Margaret said.

The group made their way to the parlor. Francesca sat down on the settee and Aunt Margaret and Elizabeth sat on either side of her. Will and Uncle Thomas sat in chairs opposite the sofa.

"About this dowry, we knew this was going to be a problem, so when Elizabeth wrote to us she mentioned it." Margaret looked to Elizabeth.

"Uncle Thomas and Aunt Margaret along with Will and I have both put money forth toward your dowry, and it is quite a lot. You _are _able to marry anyone you like." Elizabeth and Aunt Margaret smiled at Francesca who was speechless.

"Really?" Francesca whispered.

"Francesca," Elizabeth turned to look at her fully, "you have become a great friend to me. I want you to be happy."

"Are you sure?"

Margaret spoke for everyone, "We are positive dear, I already like you. I wouldn't hesitate to invest in your dowry."

"Thank you," Francesca said to everyone in the room. "This means to much to me."

"You're very welcome my dear," said Margaret kindly.

Francesca wanted to brighten up the room a little bit, "So, tell me about this son of Caroline Rothschild."

Margaret jumped to take the bait, "Quinn Rothschild is one of the most handsome men I have ever seen. Polished, refined, and such a gentleman. His mother doesn't want to part with him, she's doing everything in her power to keep him from getting married. That's where you come in my dear. Just think, Francesca Rothschild, Duchess of Standwick. Caroline will just blow her top."

"So I take it he's really handsome?"

"I met him once, a few years ago," Elizabeth said. "He really was a good looking man. You did say whoever you married had to be good looking, didn't you Francesca?"

"I suppose I did. Who wouldn't want a good looking husband."

"And I suppose it helps that he's extremely rich," Aunt Margaret nudged Francesca, "doesn't it?"

"Yep, being rich is definitely a plus."

* * *

><p>Later, after they had visited for almost three hours Francesca was walking aimlessly around the house and the grounds. <em>Things <em>_have __gotten __really __boring __since __Jack __left. __I __hate __to __say __it __but __I __think __I __miss __him. _Jack had left a few days before the Stantons arrival, not wanting to get in the way and because he said the Pearl was due for some fun. He never did take Francesca out of the house, but she didn't hold it against him.

"Oh well, I'll just have to make my own fun." She can up upon drying clothing on the line in the back of the house. "What is this?"

There were numerous clothes hanging on the line, namely Will's pants and shirts. Francesca treated herself to a tan pair and a white linen shirt. _I__'__ll __just __have __to __put __these __to __good __use, __now __won__'__t __I?_

She smuggled the clothes up to her room and hid them in the chest at the end of her bed. She had previously acquired a hat and had put it in the chest before. She looked at her ensemble, she was lacking something. _Shoes! __I __need __shoes!...Will __and __Elizabeth __are __downstairs, __I__'__ll __just __peek __in __their __room __and __borrow __a __pair._

Francesca walked quietly down the hall to Will and Elizabeth's room. She opened the door and quickly closed it behind her. _Shoes, __shoes, __where __are __the __shoes? _She spotted a pair under the dresser. _Bingo. __He __doesn__'__t __wear __these __often, __I__'__ll __just __borrow __them._

Grabbing the shoes she quickly exited the room and raced to hers. Stuffing the shoes deep into the confides of the chest, she completed what she liked to call "Escape from Turner Prison for an hour" outfit. Now the plan needed only to be carried out.

* * *

><p>Dinner was an enjoyable affair, the Stantons were entertaining and fun, but Francesca was anxious. She was ready to have more fun, namely a drink at the pub. They simply didn't have any strong liquor in this house, and she was craving something strong, and some excitement in the process.<p>

When they were done, they retired to the parlor. Francesca sat for an hour listening to Aunt Margaret prattle on about clothes, eligible men, and the hottest spots in London and Paris. She didn't hear a word of it, she was focused on living through the time it took for everyone to go to bed so she could get out.

"Well, I think it's about time we go to bed Thomas," Margaret said. The Stantons rose and bid goodnight to Francesca and the Turners before heading out the door and up the stairs to their room.

_Finally! Come on Liz, it's up to you now._

"I'm tired too," Elizabeth said, "let's go to bed Will."

"Sounds good to me."

"How about you Francesca?" Elizabeth asked.

"I am really tired, I think it's time to call it a night." She yawned for good measure.

They all exited the room at the same time, Francesca following the Turners up the stairs, smiling like an idiot the entire time. _This __is __gonna __be __great! __Finally, __an __excursion!_

They said their goodnights at the top of the stairs and went their separate ways down the hall, Francesca nearly skipped to her room in glee. When she got in her room, she let the maid removed her clothing and tuck her into bed. She needed to give off the innocent appearance. When the maid left she counted to one hundred and threw her blankets off.

Tearing off her nightgown she opened the doors to her wardrobe and took out her running clothes, _I __knew __these __would __come __in __handy._Squeezing herself into the spandex she ran across the room to the chest and took out her "Escape from Turner Prison for an hour" outfit. She pulled on the pants and shirt. She took the pair of shoes and put them on.

Racing to the vanity she looked at her hair. She quickly braided her long tresses and stuffed the braid under her shirt. She put the dilapidated hat she had found on her head, stood up and walked across the room to the door. _I'll __rub __some __dirt __on __my __face __once __I__'__m __outside __to __make __myself __look __more __grubby, __since __that__'__s __probably __the __style __down __at __the __pub._

"Well, I'm ready. "Escape from Turner Prison for an hour" now in progress."

Francesca opened the door and entered the hall. It was dark, the servants had all gone to bed. She walked as quietly as she could down the hall and the stairs. When she got to the main level of the house, she stopped and listened for a moment. Silence. She hurried to the front door and left the house.

* * *

><p>The walk to the pub had been brief but exhilarating. Francesca was thrilled to finally be out of the house. The cool night air was definitely different from the stuffy air in the house and she was loving it.<p>

Francesca knew she was near the pub before she could see it. The noise and the definite smell of alcohol permeated the air surrounding the building. When she approached the door she took a deep breath and pulled the hat lower over her face.

The pub was noisy and crowded, but Francesca was there for one thing only: a good strong drink. She lowered her eyes and scouted out a dark table on the far side of the room. Weaving her way around the bustling crowd, she made her way to the table. She sat down and ordered a drink, being sure to keep her head down and deepen her voice when she talked to the server. When her drink arrived she took a deep, long swing of it. _Ah ,__rum, __it__'__s __been __so __long __since __I__'__ve __last __had __a __taste __of __you._The liquid gave her a warm feeling and allowed her to relax. She allowed herself to slyly look around the room.

Men, lots and lots of grubby men and grubby whores, definitely what she expected. Half of them were already drunk, and the other half were well on their way to being drunk. _This __is __great! __I __don__'__t __know __anyone __and __no __one __knows __me! _Just then, she slid her eyes over to look at the body that had taken the seat next to hers.

_Look __at __this __one, __definitely __not __from __around __here. __Too __good __looking._The man was handsome. Tall with dark blonde hair, and a slightly muscular frame. Well dressed if a little dirty. He really didn't belong in this pub. He caught her staring at him.

"It doesn't look as though you belong here…miss." Francesca was taken back by the cultured voice. He knew she was a woman, she was in trouble now. _Not __good. __This __is __really __not __good._

"You don't look as though you belong here either," she said.

"Well that does make two of us. I guess we're both in here on an undercover mission aren't we," he chuckled, "I'm here for a little adventure away from society among other things, and you're here for..?"

"I'm here to escape the confides of a house. And to have a nice strong drink of course."

"Do you intend to run away and join a group of pirates?" He had a good sense of humor.

"No this is my escape for an hour plan. Took me two weeks to put it into effect. Besides, it would be stupid to run away, I don't know anyone outside of Port Royal, save Jack Sparrow of course."

"You know Jack Sparrow?" he asked.

"Yes, quite well actually. He's an annoying man, really, you can't get a word in edgewise when he's talking. Grubby too." Francesca ordered another drink. This was turning out to be quite fun. It was always fun talking to attractive men.

"I'd like to meet him someday. I've heard so much about him that I would like to but a face to the name." He liked this woman, she was unlike anyone he had ever met.

"He's really not that impressive."

"Anyway, are you from Port Royal?"

"In a matter of speaking. It's complicated." She didn't want to tell her story and have him thinking she was crazy.

"Oh, I'm from England myself," he said.

"Oh."

They sat in silence, it appeared they had run out of things to say. Francesca decided it was time for her to leave.

"Well, I'm going home." She put some coins on the table to pay for her drinks, and started to stand up.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

_I__'__m __never __going __to __see __him __again, __what__'__s __the __problem __with __telling __him __my __real __name._"Francesca. Francesca Demers."

"French?"

"You could say that. And yours?" It was only right that she knew his name. She might want to look him up some day.

"Oh, Lord Quinn Rothschild at your service."

_Oh my God, it's him, the man Margaret was talking about!_

"Lovely name. Well, goodnight. Have a nice night!" With that she swiftly stood up and left the pub before Quinn could say another word.

When Francesca got to the house she stood outside for a minute, her heart beating quickly. _I __just __met __the __man __I__'__m __supposed __to __marry! __In __a __pub! __What __am __I __going __to __do __when __I__'__m __introduced __to __him __in __London! __This __is __not __good. __Definitely __not __good._

* * *

><p>Let me know what you think!<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks for reviewing! Enjoy!

**Chapter 9**

Francesca never mentioned the encounter to anyone, and now on her way to England it was all she could think about. She was sitting with Aunt Margaret and Elizabeth on the deck of the ship for what seemed like the sixth-hundred time over the past two weeks.

"You seen preoccupied my dear," Aunt Margaret said, and patted her hand.

"I'm just thinking about the future…about people." Francesca was comforted by the way these two women had befriended her, without so much as an introduction.

"It's only normal," Elizabeth said.

"I just don't want to embarrass you, or give myself away," _which I've already done._

"You won't. I know you, you'll carry it out perfectly."

"If there's anyone like Jack there, expect bloodshed."

Elizabeth chuckled, "Believe me, everyone in proper society has a certain sense of decorum. I don't think you'll be quite pushed to that limit, besides you got along with him in the end."

"Dear," Aunt Margaret added, "they are all going to love you."

"Yeah, just wait till I say something completely inappropriate. Which I will. Then I'll be exiled and they'll hate me, then they'll hate you, and I'll ruin everyone's lives." Francesca put her head in her hands and groaned, she'd never really thought of what she was in for when she finally got to England. It had all seemed like a great game when it all started, and she was just realizing the consequences of losing. Now that they were nearly at their destination, hyperventilation was quickly creeping up on her.

"We all think that when we're presented to society. Yours will be just a little different," Elizabeth said.

"Get that accent down, look good in a dress, be careful with what words you use, and there will not be any problems. Look good in that dress and you may only have to live through this season," Aunt Margaret contemplated. "Who knows, maybe you can charm the pants off Quinn Rothschild."

"Aunt Margaret!" Elizabeth was one of those ladies that didn't really talk about such things in public. Privately it was an entirely different matter.

"I was being constructive. We could catch them in the act, he'd have to marry her. Caroline would be so embarrassed, her son, marrying to save his good name, delicious. It would be great!"

Elizabeth ended her quickly forming plan, "Think of things like that as only a last result. We can hook him, or someone better, with fewer troubles."

Francesca interrupted the women, "I just want to focus on living through the first week. Then I'll think about men, which is not an entirely bad thing to think about, wouldn't you say?"

Elizabeth and Aunt Margaret both nodded. Men were indeed a very pleasant thing to think about.

* * *

><p>At that moment in time Jack Sparrow was sailing, or rather sneaking, into Port Royal. He had decided to pay the Turner household a visit after having been gone for around a month. He was in the area, he might as well pop in to see Will and Lizzie, and the sumptuous creature Francesca. While he was sailing he had been happy, picking up tons of "free" things during his journey, but he felt that he was missing something. He had suddenly realized about two days ago that he was missing the daily arguments he had with Francesca. Well, that was quite unexpected. He would just have to get over it. And that was precisely what he was doing now, visiting them to get her out of his system.<p>

Jack reached the Turner house and walked around the back to the kitchen, he might as well be respectful, no one looks respectful with a pirate knocking on the front door. He knocked on the kitchen door. The cook answered, "Yes, Captain Sparrow?"

"I'm here to see the Turners and Miss Demers."

"Oh, Captain they left for England two weeks ago."

Jack stroked his chin, "Thank you." The cook closed the door.

"Great, now I've got to go all the way to London. Haven't been there in years. Maybe I can pick up some things on the way there." Jack turned around and walked back to the docks, whistling all the way.

* * *

><p>When the Turners, Stantons, and Francesca arrived in London Francesca was overwhelmed by the differences between this time and hers. The colors, smells, everything was so different. She was used to London of 2007 with cars and pavement, this was completely unlike it, although she did recognize some of the buildings. While Francesca gawked out the window of the carriage, they traveled to the Stanton's London house. Everybody who was anybody had a London house. And what a house it was.<p>

Located in the most fashionable district of town, it was evident that the Stantons were extremely wealthy. The house was constructed of a golden stone, and stood out among the brick houses surrounding it. With a marble staircase leading to the front door, and large clean windows the house was very impressive. The servants carried their luggage into the house as the group entered and Francesca was again overwhelmed by times that had once been past her. Every furnishing was extravagant. As she walked through the door and looked to the left, she saw a pile of calling cards, evidently the Stantons were very popular among society, which she guessed was good for her. Aunt Margaret looked at the same time Francesca did.

"Oh look! Everyone's been missing us. Good! Now we'll be invited to tons of parties, and we can take Francesca with us!" She looked through the cards. "Look! Here's one from Caroline Rothschild, we wouldn't want to be rude and not return the favor of visiting now would we?" Aunt Margaret looked slyly over at Francesca.

Francesca knew what she had in mind. "I suppose I'm going for a visit soon, aren't I?"

"Not too soon, you need some more dresses and hats, we need you to look like the most fashionable lady in town, which you will be. We'll show that Caroline." Aunt Margaret had only one thing in mind: get back at the hated Caroline Rothschild.

"More clothes? Don't I have enough already?" Francesca hated getting fitted, hated seamstresses, ever since the Speltmonster.

Elizabeth entering the conversation added, "Francesca is not too fond of seamstresses."

"I'll have my seamstress fit her, Anna will absolutely love her. And Francesca will need a personal maid, a good one, a Frenchwoman perhaps. They are just wonderful with hair." Aunt Margaret clapped her hands, "There are so many things to do! We need to get working!"

Aunt Margaret dragged the women to the parlor, leaving the men standing in the entryway.

"How much do you want to bet something big is going to come of this?" Will asked Uncle Thomas.

"Knowing Margaret, she'll be the one to make a mess of the entire plan."

The men went to the library to relax, and to discuss how they were going to live through the plan Margaret was forming.

* * *

><p>Anna, the seamstress in London was the complete opposite of the Speltmonster. Where Mrs. Spelt had criticized Francesca, Anna was complimentary. They were in Francesca's room at the Stanton's London house, which was just as extravagant as the rest of the residence. Every piece of furniture was of the highest quality, and the view from her room let her look out on the street below and watch society as it rolled by. Being fitted wasn't quite as bad has it had been the first time. As her assistants were taking Francesca's measurements, Anna was going over colors and styles with Aunt Margaret and Elizabeth.<p>

"I'm thinking jewel tones especially, very dark colors. She would not look good in pastels, and I take it we want her to stand out, no?"

"Greens, blues and reds would look very nice on Francesca," Elizabeth added.

"She needs to be flashy. The complete opposite of every other young woman competing with her. Something different. Young men are always drawn to the new attraction on the dance floor or in the drawing room." Aunt Margaret had already made a list of every eligible young woman in a five hundred mile radius, and had come to the conclusion that they were all shrinking violets. Francesca needed to look different.

Francesca listened to them and envisioned what they were dressing her in. "So, in other words I need to look like a classy whore?"

Aunt Margaret jumped in, "In a way, but not really quite that indelicate. A rich widow stands out because she doesn't have to care about what society thinks of her. We need you to be like that rich widow, except perhaps less…?"

"Loose?" Francesca asked.

"Exactly. Unless of course you find yourself in a situation where you can use it to your advantage, like in order to marry Quinn Rothschild."

Anna, who had been looking at different swatches of fabric added some words of wisdom, "A woman has many attributes. Merely playing up some of them will enable her to get a man, which I suppose is your main purpose. We are making gowns to fit that exact purpose." She looked at Francesca, who looked to Aunt Margaret and rolled her eyes.

"She's going to marry the young Lord Rothschild," Aunt Margaret said surely.

"Oh, you're going for him? Good luck. His mother is one of the most horrid people I've ever met," Anna said to Francesca.

"I've heard."

"I hate Caroline Rothschild. All she ever talks about is her daughter, who is a dear, but I simply cannot stand her prattling on. This is the perfect way to get at her nerves. We'll make her son fall for someone completely unsuitable, by her standards." Aunt Margaret looked at Francesca, "She has no family title and no history, but she is beautiful and she will have a very desirable dowry, one that any normal man wouldn't overlook."

"A normal man wouldn't overlook her just because of her looks." Elizabeth was smiling at Francesca, she had high hopes for her friend.

Francesca was lost in thought as they continued measuring and fitting her for the rest of her wardrobe. She needed every type of gown imaginable, but especially a tremendously extravagant gown for the Stanton's annual costume ball that was the highlight of the Season. Aunt Margaret had talked of nothing more, other than Caroline Rothschild and her children. Anna's assistants packed up their tools and left the room. Anna stayed to talk to the women remaining.

"Well, these gowns will help you in your endeavors, perhaps even more because Lady Stanton has requested the latest fashions. The first of the gowns will be delivered by the end of the week. Don't expect the ball gowns to be ready for a few months, we have planned some quite remarkable techniques to be used, and we want you to outshine everyone else in the room."

Francesca grabbed her arm and spoke quietly, "One more thing Anna. If it's not too much trouble, I would like a black dress. I know it's not customary, but I think if I had an absolutely stunning black dress it would really help me to stand out. Some people would be scandalized, but it would be different and if that's what I'm aiming for I need something that not everyone else will be wearing." She looked to Anna desperately.

"I think you may be right. I'll see what I can do. If I can, you will have the most spectacular dress I have ever made. Both your dress for the costume ball and this black dress will make everyone in the room speechless." She turned to leave then turned back to Francesca and whispered in her ear, "Good luck…Francesca Demers, future Duchess of Standwick."

Francesca realized something. This woman was her ally, and Anna made every gown that respectable women in society bought. And women in society were gossips, surely Anna could overhear something. She could work from the inside. Francesca needed to keep Anna, as both a seamstress and a friend.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!<p> 


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